


The Protest Was Not A Good Idea.

by LovelyJehan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Funeral, Heaven, M/M, Protest Gone Wrong, Sad with a somewhat happy ending, bullet, i can't tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4666212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyJehan/pseuds/LovelyJehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The protest was not a good idea. Grantaire could see that now, more than he ever had before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Protest Was Not A Good Idea.

The protest was not a good idea. Grantaire could see that now, more than he ever had before. He ignored the bad feeling he had had the night before, he ignored the protestant voices in the back of his head. In short, he should have listened. It was a shit storm before it had even started, police were already there when they arrived and the guns people carried in the crowd did not go unnoticed by the Les Amis, the group that had organised the protest.

Grantaire had seen it coming, it was as if time had slowed down and he could see the bullet flying straight towards Enjolras’ chest, but Grantaire was frozen in place unable to do anything. He saw Enjolras mouth ‘I love you’ to him, a telltale sign that _Enjolras_ knew what was coming. Grantaire was frozen, he heard the screams and the chaos breaking out around him, but he was fixated on Enjolras, he saw the bullet lodge itself into the latter and he saw Enjolras drop to the floor of the podium. Grantaire saw Enjolras die. That day the bullet did, the only one fired, killed not one, but two. 

After Enjolras had died, Grantaire was wild, but not in his usual way. He had stopped drinking and harming himself about a year ago and he was not about to throw that all away. No, Grantaire became immersed in work, he picked up extra shifts at the cafe, he was constantly working on commissions for people on DeviantArt. _All_ of his friends were worried about him, he was showing Enjolras-like ways to cope with his grief.

“He’s at stage one,” Jehan had said to the rest of the Amis, other than Grantaire, one day, “denial.”

It did make sense, Grantaire barely acknowledged that Enjolras had died, he did not talk about his former boyfriend and if someone brought it up, he would leave the room and work on an art piece. Grantaire did not notice that the colour ‘red’ had made its way into most of his art. It did not go unnoticed by his friends. 

The protest was two weeks ago and it was the day of Enjolras’ funeral and Grantaire had to make a speech, he was glad that Enjolras’ family would not be attending because as Enjolras had once said ‘My family are prejudice dickheads.” 

“R?” Cosette asked, when he got to the Church.

“Hmm?” 

“It’s okay to cry. It’s alright to let go of your emotions. You’re allowed to be sad.” Cosette said. 

Grantaire made no reply and instead wrapped his arms tightly around Enjolras’ sister, she was the only family member, but Cosette was so kind and so sweet to him, to Enjolras, to all of their friends. Cosette never mentioned to anyone that Grantaire cried silent tears in that moment. 

~*~

It was Grantaire’s turn to speak and he wasn’t sure if he could get up and do that. Enjolras had always been good with words, not that Grantaire wasn’t, but he was better when he had Enjolras there to refute the latter’s arguments. Grantaire took a deep breath. In through the nose. 2. 3. 4. 5. Out through the mouth. 2. 3. 4. 5. Grantaire stood at the lectern.

“I had a speech prepared, but I don’t think I can use it, it doesn’t feel right. Enjolras. A gorgeous, passionate, fiery, blonde haired man. The first time I laid eyes on him, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, so I drank to forget, but it made matters worse. One day, I arrived at a meeting completely and utterly sober and that day I found out, Enjolras, Apollo, liked me back. You’re all going to disagree me, but I feel at fault for his death. I had a bad feeling the entire time and I could see the bullet being shot, but I didn’t - couldn’t do anything. Before he died Enjolras mouthed the words ‘I love you’ to me and I knew in that moment that he was going to go and there was nothing I could do about it and then the bullet hit him. I’ve never really believed in Heaven, but I believe that Enjolras is up there lecturing all the deceased about how they could have gotten better rights and so on, but I am convinced he is looking down at us right now and thinking ‘what are you all attending a funeral for? There is work to be done and justice to be dealt with.’ I love you, Enjolras and I will never ever forget you. I guess this is goodbye for now, Apollo.” Grantaire finished, his voice cracking several times throughout the speech. 

He resumed his position next to Cosette.

"That was very touching, R.” Cosette said to him and he could see the tears running down her cheeks.

 ~*~

Grantaire never fell in love again, he went on dates and he dated people for longer than a few months, but he never loved them the way he loved Enjolras, therefore Grantaire never settled down. Grantaire died at the tender age of forty-four, he died from a stroke. 

“Where am I?” Grantaire asked as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Heaven, darling.” Replied a voice.

“Are you an angel?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you, I am not an angel nor am I Apollo.” 

Grantaire smiled and sat up. 

“Enjolras.” Grantaire whispered.

“Hi my love.” 

Grantaire replied by wrapping his arms around the torso of the blonde man. Enjolras kissed the top of Grantaire’s head and then proceeded to pepper kisses all over Grantaire’s face.

“Are you quite done there?” Grantaire teased. 

“Well forgive me for kissing my _boyfriend_ whom I haven’t gotten to touch in ah let’s see, almost twenty-five years. You know every time you visited me grave, I was there. I wanted to reach out and grab your arm each time you left, but I couldn’t and now you’re here.”

“I love you.” Grantaire told him.

~*~

One by one their friends began to join them in Heaven, beginning with Èponine and ending with Marius. Once in Heaven it was like they were back on Earth, except they could see their children visit their graves. The group was content, but if you ask Grantaire he will still say ‘The protest was not a good idea.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> [come talk to me](https://naughtyryro.tumblr.com/)


End file.
